True Colours (42 page)

‘
And there’ll be no need to wait up either, Joss will make sure I get home in one piece won’t you my dear?’

‘
I will of course. We won’t be late, so you needn’t worry.’

‘
I might go out myself…so don’t you be waiting up either.’ Alex flashed Jocelyn a smile, ‘he’s a cantankerous old goat, I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

Jocelyn shot her a knowing look, ‘After working for the Wingfields for almost forty years, nothing fazes me my dear, I take it all in my stride, don’t you worry.’

Moments later Jocelyn had gone, leaving a rather surprising waft of Chanel No 5 behind her.

‘
I need a nap love if I’m going out gadding. You can start in the kitchen can you, do the bedroom tomorrow? And watch your mother’s good china, that’s an heirloom that is.’

‘
Yes Dad.’ Alex threw him a mock salute as he levered himself out of his chair. ‘Let me give you a hand up the stairs.’

Several hours later, her jacket off, t-shirt pulled up to her elbows, surrounded by a sea of torn-up newspaper and china ornaments, Alex heard Jocelyn’s car pull up outside. She glanced at her watch, shocked at the passage of time. Once she had got started on the packing, sorting the china, wrapping each piece and stowing it in the cardboard boxes she had brought down, flat packed, in the back of the car, she had found herself relaxing for the first time in weeks, enjoying the peace and quiet, the first opportunity she had had to switch off, to let her mind drift over half-forgotten memories. Until now. Suddenly aware of the time, Alex’s stomach began to knot – she’d pushed the whole business of dinner from her mind for the past few hours, but now…now it was very real.

FORTY NINE

Alex felt the sinking sun warm on her face as she emerged from the tunnel of trees leading from the cottage, her stomach fluttering, palm’s clammy. Sebastian was already there, had his back to her, was looking out through the trelliswork of the west gate towards the village, shadows falling like antique lace around his feet.

‘
Hi’

The lane was rough, un-tarmacked, muffling her footsteps and Sebastian jumped as she spoke, spun around, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a Barbour jacket looped over his arm. The sun, like a jewel burning behind him, dazzled her, throwing his face into shadow, turning his navy cashmere sweater to midnight.

‘
I thought you’d be driving.’

Alex lifted her hand to shield her eyes, ‘I got here early, parked by the cottage. It’s a beautiful evening.’

Sebastian nodded, ‘Thanks for coming.’

Alex shrugged, smiling, ‘I couldn’t exactly say no to the guy who saved my life now could I?’

Sebastian shook his head, embarrassed, Alex stuck her own hands in her pockets, blushing, why had she said that?

‘
So where are we eating?’ Oh God, the thought hit her as she spoke, surely not Foley’s? But she needn’t have worried. Moving under the trees, Sebastian glanced at her shyly, the sun lighting his eyes to azure blue, sending her stomach into a tailspin.

‘
This way.’

He ducked off the lane and down a winding track, dry sticks cracking beneath his feet. Surprised, Alex paused for a moment, not sure what to do she hadn’t been expecting a cross-country walk.

‘
Are you coming?’

Pulling herself together, Alex fell into step behind him, ducking under the branches, pushing away the brambles that caught at her ankles. Walking single file, they didn’t speak, instead listened to the sounds of the woods joining in a chorus around them, a lone robin leading, the repeated notes of a song thrush urging them deeper into the cathedral of the trees. Sebastian paused, a pace ahead of her, held a branch out of her way; elder, dripping with milky star-like flowers, bright in the dusk. Where on earth were they going? With each step her curiosity grew. Alex strained her ears – surely that was the sound of water?

Then she knew.

Rushing and tumbling, the sound of the river reached her like a choir of boys falling out of the stalls after practice. And suddenly the path opened into a clearing, knee deep in bluebells, their scent rising like a chorus.

‘
Oh my goodness…’ Alex’s hand shot to her mouth. Sebastian had stopped in front of her, and as Alex came up behind him, so close she could smell the residue of smoke in his hair, the Wright’s Cold Tar Soap he had used to try and get rid of it, the words slipped out. ‘Wow.’

They were looking at the Mill House.

But it wasn’t the tumble-down ruin Alex remembered, derelict and forgotten, the windows boarded up, the only light falling through the holes in the thatch. Far from it.

‘
When did you do all this?’

Sebastian smiled, his eyes meeting hers, holding her gaze, sending a chill up her spine. Unaware of the effect he was having, he turned back to the building, its freshly whitewashed walls glowing in the gathering dusk. Set at an angle to the river, the great wheel facing them, the thatch was flawless now, packed hard, cut in intricate geometric patterns along the ridge. A wisp of smoke rose from the chimney, lights smiling from every one of the tiny diamond-paned windows.

‘
Your dad helped.’

‘
My dad?’

As Alex spoke, the ancient wheel began to turn, its paddles smacking the surface of the water in time to the beat of her heart. Reaching deep into the river, the water tumbled like laughter as it came back up for each rotation.

‘
It works.’ Alex could hear the relief and satisfaction in Sebastian’s voice, ‘after the week I’ve had, I was sure it would seize up.’

Sebastian glanced at her, shy again, stuck his hands in his pockets and began to follow a rabbit track through the flowers. Opposite the house, a narrow wooden bridge spanned the river. The boards creaked as they crossed, a dragonfly, its wings iridescent, body cobalt blue, hovering beside them before zipping off across the river, its curiosity satisfied.

‘
So are we eating here?’

‘
Sort of. What do you think of the place?’

‘
Professionally or personally?’

‘
Either…both.’ A shadow of concern flashed across Sebastian’s face.

‘
I love it. Professionally and personally.’

A grin twitched at the sides of his mouth. ‘Good. Good. Do you want to see inside?’

‘
I thought you’d never ask.’

Pushing open the cherry red front door, its new paint gleaming in the glow from the coach lights on either side, Sebastian stamped off the mud on his boots on a rough coconut mat.

‘
Mind that step, I didn’t want to take it out.’

Alex smiled, stepping over the lopsided granite lintel standing proud of the terracotta tiles, worn in the middle where hundreds of feet had gone before them. She would have left it as well.

‘
It’s ideal for tripping up door-to-door salesmen,’ Sebastian’s laugh was rich, deep, ‘We get a lot of those around here.’

‘
Good evening Mr Wingfield.’

Alex almost jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t expected there to be anyone else here. A young girl materialised from behind the door, smart in a black skirt and white shirt, a fuchsia pink tie at her neck. She was holding out a silver tray, the glasses on it full, fizzing and bubbling.

‘
Thank you Anna, how is everything?’ Sebastian threw his coat over the back of a rich brown leather sofa dividing the open-plan living area in two, a fire leaping in a huge inglenook fireplace at one end, a modern kitchen dominated by a claret coloured Aga at the other. He accepted the glass with a gracious smile.

‘
Grand Mr Wingfield, David has everything ready.’ The girl nodded towards the kitchen.

Coming into the room properly, accepting a glass, Alex followed the girl’s eyes, surprised to see a chef, complete with hat, turn from the counter and bend down to open one of the ovens. The smell escaping from it was delicious, filled the room, red wine and garlic, a delicate undertone of …fish?

‘
This is David, I didn’t have the energy to cook, so I cheated a bit.’

‘
I’m good with cheating…’ Alex almost laughed, this was perfect…all of it…why was he apologising?

‘
David and Anna are from The Butler’s Pantry. They do all our corporate catering, events, meetings, that sort of thing.’ Alex thought of Jocelyn with her fuchsia bag of delights – added rescuing maidens in distress to The Butler’s Pantry’s list of accomplishments.

‘
And there I was thinking we’d be having ham sandwiches.’

‘
I don’t think so,’ Sebastian smiled, ‘what have you got for us David?’

The chef’s cheeks were flushed pink as he reeled off a mouth watering menu.

‘
Our entrée is crispy duck confit with braised endive and blood orange caramel, followed by wild sea bass with bouillabaisse garnish. Then, for dessert, vanilla panacotta with red wine, poached plums and cinnamon shortbread or a chocolate fondant with crème fraiche and raspberries, and of course an artisan cheeseboard served with quince jelly, grapes, strawberries, fig tart, crackers and oatmeal biscuits.’

Alex wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. Then she recovered, ‘Of course.’ How could they forget the cheeseboard? ‘It sounds fabulous; how do you remember all that? I won’t need to eat for a week.’

‘
At least you’re not on a diet.’ Sebastian was leaning on the back of the sofa, his ankles crossed, watching her take it all in. His tone was ironic, the quip loaded. They both knew someone who usually was.

Unwilling to spoil the mood, Alex hesitated, brought her glass at her lips, the bubbles popping under her nose. But she had to ask.

‘
And where’s Caroline tonight?’

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, his face grim, ‘She’s tied up, won’t be back...ever if I can help it.’

Alex’s eyebrows shot up as their eyes met. His contained a warning look, but Alex could read his mind. I’ll tell you later. She nodded almost imperceptibly. What on earth had gone on between them? What could have happened?

‘
So have a look round, I’ll get you another drink.’

Alex looked at her glass, surprised. She’d knocked it back while he was speaking, nerves – had to be. Sebastian reached over to pull a bottle from a cooler standing at one end of the sofa, the ice chinking and churning as he lifted it out. ‘You do still like Asti Spumante?’

Alex’s face broke with smothered laughter, ‘And there I was thinking it was champagne.’

Leaving Sebastian in the kitchen to check on dinner, Alex was desperately curious to see what he had done with the house. They’d had such grand ideas all those years ago. But she needn’t have worried – it was perfect, every room completely restored using original materials. Rustic tiles butted against rough plaster walls, but Sebastian had ensured the cottage had every modern convenience. If Alex was honest it was decorated exactly as she would have done it herself. Thankfully, he’d foregone the Laura Ashley wallpaper she’d been mad about then, had instead opted for matt colours, bold and strong, for beautiful detail – a chair made from driftwood, gnarled and weathered, a cast iron four poster in the master bedroom, scrolls twisting and writhing at each corner, a huge copper shower head in the en suite bathroom, mosaic tiles blue, iridescent like the dragonfly.

Coming down the narrow pine staircase, her heels clicking on the boards, Alex found Sebastian with his head in the fridge discussing the best temperature to serve the cheese.

‘
It’s fabulous, you’ve done a great job.’

‘
Thanks.’ Sebastian closed the fridge, ‘Are you ready to eat?’

‘
I’m starving.’

‘
Good, I thought as it was so warm we could eat outside.’

FIFTY

Outside it was almost dark, the birds on their way home, bats filling their place flitting between the trees. Alex shivered, glad of her pink jacket, fine wool with its black and white striped lining. It was still warm, but after the heat of the kitchen, felt fresh. But she needn’t have worried. Sebastian had thought of everything.

‘
This way.’ Turning to his right outside the front door, following the crazy paved path tumbling with mint and rosemary, Sebastian led her past the twinkling windows of the kitchen, around the corner of the building.

Around the corner into fairyland.

Alex gasped, amazed. Tiny lanterns had been strung from a huge oak tree, its branches creating a majestic arch leaning towards the house. Flickering with hundreds of candles, the light from the lanterns fell on a table that had been set below; sparkling silver cutlery on a crisp white cloth, tall John Rocha crystal glasses, their stems slim and elegant, rose petals scattered over the tablecloth like confetti. Beside the table a chimaera had been lit, its terracotta body glowing, throwing out enough heat to keep them both warm well into the night. If they needed it…

‘
Sit down; more wine? Red or white? I thought we’d go with Spanish tonight.’ Sebastian pulled out a cast iron scroll back chair, its seat and back upholstered in a rich burgundy velvet.

‘
White please.’ At least she wasn’t driving.

Alex sat down, marvelling at the table, the sound of the mill wheel splashing rhythmically through the water at the other end of the house, the rush of the river, winding into the trees, loud beside them. ‘This is beautiful. Really. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.’